Choosing the Better Part
by FUlyric
Summary: "Only one thing is needed. He has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from him." Thoughts on the scene on the jet as the brothers leave Cuba. Spoilers for the end of "Mano a Mano."


**Author's Note: **Okay, well the Evan-Kidnapping story wasn't all that intense. Meh. At least he's okay. No, see what really stood out for me was the penultimate scene on the jet flying home. Um... can we say wow? That was a wonderful brother moment, beautifully written and beautifully played. Couldn't resist. For some reason, I started thinking about Luke 10:38-42 in the New Testament (the title is taken from that text) - perhaps because the book I'm reading just illustrated that particular passage. I just found it an interesting parallel: the two siblings who express their love and devotion in different ways, and in this situation cope with the inevitable. Perhaps my personal favorite moment of Royal Pains to date, as far as the brotherhood goes.

Dialogue in bold; narration in regular text.

* * *

"**To Cuba, to Canadians, to private jets…"**

"**To dominos."**

"**Yes, to dominos! Indeed!" **The brothers clinked their champagne flutes in a toast as the jet took off into the blue sky.

"**Sounds like Cubans play a wild game," **Hank mused as he swallowed down his drink.

"**Mom wouldn't have even recognized it. I mean, it's crazy."** Evan said, shaking his head in slight disbelief, as he looked out the window at the receding island. As casually as he had mentioned their mother, Hank had already been thinking of her, and of watching Evan play dominos with her in the hospital. He knew Evan was now thinking of the same thing.

"**I was jealous of you,"** Hank heard himself quietly say the words, finally voicing the thoughts he had had numerous times over the years whenever he thought of their mother. Seeing Evan's head quickly swivel back to him in surprise, he smiled a bit sheepishly. **"Spending so much time with her…" **he clarified.

"**Jealous?"** Evan looked at his brother in confusion. That couldn't be right. Hank couldn't be jealous of him for _anything_ – he was the golden boy, the success, the one who did everything right, and Evan was the one who always messed up, the black sheep. Everyone knew that – even their HankMed clients could tell who the "good brother" was. What was Hank babbling about?

"**Yeah, you could make her laugh, you know? I… even at the end…"** Hank shook his head. He had never understood how Evan had managed to keep his own spirits up, much less how he had transferred that life-giving contentedness to Mom, especially in those final agonizing weeks when her body would be wracked with painful spasms… No one would ever guess it now, with Hank being a beloved doctor with the excellent bedside manner, but at fifteen, he had been unable to remain long in the same room with his dying mother. It was just too hard. He coped with her impending loss by cleaning up, speaking to the doctors and nurses and learning how to administer shots for pain, calling friends and extended family, doing laundry, going to get food or drinks for himself and Evan (Mom wasn't consuming much by that point), and doing his homework. Later on, he had managed the funeral arrangements, received all visitors and mourners, and comforted his little brother, who had been unable to muster even a smile for months afterward. And everyone had said of him, _What a wonderful son, being so strong and taking on so much responsibility, blah blah blah. _But Evan had never left Mom's side, playing dominos with her, or cards, or even just holding her hand and distracting her with a joke or funny story when the spasms became too much. His grades had suffered from schoolwork neglect, but his mother had been that much better off for his attentions. Hank had seen to her overall comfort, but Evan had given her _peace_.

"**That's ALL I did though! You were holding the family together." **Immediately Evan tried to remind his brother of the truth. He dismissively explained away his own actions, mainly out of discomfort and a twinge of alarm. Hank had never said anything like this before. It didn't fit, and it was too unexpected to sit well with him. It was like the universe was suddenly out of kilter with this sudden confession that there was a time when Evan had been seen as the strong one, the one to be envied, even if Hank was the only person who had seen that. How could Hank possibly believe that keeping Mom entertained was at all equivalent to everything Hank had been asked to do at the time? Hank became head of the house with Eddie MIA and Mom out of commission. He took on all the roles of a parent as well as maintaining his own responsibilities of student and brother. How could any of that compare to playing silly games? It wasn't important. All those times, Evan had felt he _should _be helping Hank with the household chores, but he couldn't drag himself away from his mother... perhaps because for all his immaturity, he understood there wasn't much time left.

Hank was undeterred. As he looked at Evan's bewildered face, he realized why his brother was shocked into near speechlessness and was looking at him like he was speaking Martian. Evan had never believed that he mattered, or at least that he had not mattered at that critical point in their lives.

"**You had the harder job. I couldn't do it. So thanks…"** Because in the end, Evan had been there. While Hank had been out on yet another Chinese take-out run, it had been _Evan_ who was there at the bedside at the moment their mother had died. **"I should have said that before,"** Hank admited, a bit guiltily. Why _hadn't_ he said this before? And why was he saying it now? Had he just never had an opportunity, or had he just never thought it was important enough to mention? What was it about this impromptu trip to Cuba that had made him want to articulate these old feelings to his brother? Well, one look at Evan's eyes, those wide blue eyes that seemed so full of surprise and disbelief and gratitude and uncertainty and a flicker of something like hope, and he knew he should have said it long ago. Evan needed to hear it, needed to understand how happy he had made their mother, and how much Hank admired him for it. **"Thank you."**

Hank had always loved his brother, and he knew Evan knew that. He was only sorry he had waited so long to tell Evan that he _appreciated_ him, too.

Evan turned his face away and looked straight ahead. His mouth twitched a little, and Hank saw him blink and swallow heavily before he responded in an even voice, **"We should really travel together more often." **He seemed calm on the outside as he spoke, and it may have sounded like a flippant statement to anyone else, but it was the closest he could get to thanking Hank without losing his cool.

Hank also turned to face forward, smiling a little before agreeing with his brother. He understood.


End file.
